Pureland
by The Closet Romantic
Summary: A killer is loose in Japan. When another victim is captured and held hostage, lives become intertwined in ways that one could never imagine. As the clock continues to tick, it all boils down to one question: how far would you go to save someone you love?
1. Over the Waterfall

**A/N: Hello and welcome to my first Junjou Romantica fanfic! I'm beyond excited to be writing this! This JR fanfic is based on one of my favorite video games, _Heavy Rain_. It's an amazing game, and I highly recommend checking it out if you've never played it before. If you have though, don't worry, because this fic will NOT follow the game completely, and you don't need to know the game at all to read this. It's actually more fun if you don't! And this is NOT a crossover. I have most of it planned out, so this fic will NEVER be abandoned. I hate when authors do that, and I won't torture you guys like other people do ^^ So...enough of me blabbing! Enjoy the first chapter! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Junjou Romantica or Heavy Rain, I just like manipulating them for my own (and your) entertainment :D**

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><p>"Misaki?"<p>

A low rumble of a voice caused my dreams to fade to black and my eyes to open. I blearily blinked until my vision cleared, rubbing the sleep from my still heavy eyelids with a fist. I sleepily turned my head to the left and was confronted with a pair of vivid violets, solely focused on, of course, my face.

"Baka Usagi-san," I blushed and looked away, "have you been watching me sleep?"

He smirked curiously and roped his strong arms around me, constricting me as tight as a python. His chilled chest touched my back and I instantly shivered, feeling a tinge of pleasure race through my body. Not that I would ever admit that to Lord Pervert himself.

"Maybe," he purred into my ear, "but it's not my fault. When you're asleep it's the only time I can truly admire your lovely face."

I struggled in his grip and tried to squirm my way out, "Usagi-san! That's totally creepy! Can't I even sleep without you being a weirdo?" He chuckled deeply, I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as the vibrations from his throat rumbled through the back of my neck.

"I have school today," I squirmed again, desperate to escape before he did something I would regret, "let me out, Usagi-san! I have to be there early or the teacher will kill me!" He sighed, burying his face between my shoulder blades, "but it's so early, Misaki. I'll drive you, all right?"

I stole a quick glance at the clock. The bright, flashing blue numbers seemed to be screaming at me.

"8:30?" I exclaimed, "I'm already late! Usagi-san, we have to go _now_!" He did that laugh again, the one that seems to come from the back of his throat, and I blushed furiously, panic boiling in my stomach that could rival a witch's cauldron.

"Misaki," he said gently, sitting up and ruffling my hair, "it's Saturday."

He stifled a laugh as I tried to comprehend the situation. Saturday. That meant no University. Which meant that I didn't have to get up. Which led to the obvious conclusion that Usagi-san could jump me at any moment and I couldn't use school as an excuse. I raced out of the bed faster than Usagi-san's libido and made it safely to the hallway.

"I'll make breakfast come downstairs when you're ready okay bye good morning see you in a bit!" I yelled into the dark bedroom with one breathe, turning to use the stairs.

"The only thing that I want to eat is Misaki's-"

"Usagi-san!"

"-with a side of-"

"Eggs and bacon it is then!"

I ran down the stairs, trying to suppress the grin that was attempting to make its way onto my face. It had been a little more than a year since I had moved in with Usagi-san, and things still hadn't changed. We still had the same routine; argue, banter, eat together, kiss, hug, grope, and...that other thing we do.

By now, I was sure I could keep an entire city warm with just my face. I tried to keep my thoughts under control as I turned on the oven. I went over to the fridge and gathered the necessary items for breakfast, a traditional Western theme with pancakes, bacon, and eggs.

After I mixed all the ingredients together for the pancake batter and began to pour circles carefully onto a pan, Usagi-san emerged from his teddy-bear cave. Like always, he was way overdressed for breakfast, wearing a pair of black dress slacks, blue shirt, and a black tie. A giant Suzuki-san was nestled under his arm as he plopped onto the living room couch. He flipped on the local news channel and lit a cigarette, much to my dismay.

"Usagi-san, how many times have I told you to stop smoking?" He peered into the kitchen and smirked as I continued, "you're gonna get lung disease when you're not even 30 years old!"

"Is dear Misaki worried about his lover~?"

I glared at the novelist, "n-no...I mean...h-have you heard what secondhand smoke can do to the others around you? People have died from it! I plan on living a long life, thank you very much!"

He chuckled and snuffed out the cigarette on a nearby panda-shaped ashtray. "If it means more time with you, Misaki, than so be it."

_Shockingly_, I blushed _again_ and quickly looked away, tending to the thickening batter on the stove, trying to distract myself with the little bubbles occasionally popping in the now semi-liquid.

"This is Channel 6 news, at 9:00 am..."

The various voices from the newscast filled the seemingly empty space between us. In that moment, things just felt so right, I couldn't help but feel like this was an ideal morning. I hadn't felt like that in a while. Nii-chan had always done his best to make mornings special...but things just weren't the same without Mom and Dad. When Usagi-san had come into my life (er... "hopped," rather), things began to feel a little better. Constantly feeling like I was on an emotional roller coaster kept me distracted from the guilt that was eating me away like a ravenous parasite...

"Look," he interrupted my internal rant, pointing to the screen at a breaking news report, "seems important."

I looked at the television, grimacing as I saw a newscaster point to something that was covered with a white sheet and cut off with caution tape. Clearly, there was something disturbing under the sheet that they thought the public shouldn't see.

Wherever they were, it was more than drizzling, and the sky was an ominous gray. The reporter looked very disorganized, as if she had just received the order to get her things together five minutes prior to the broadcast. She had a cheap plastic rain poncho thrown over her otherwise professional looking clothes. Usagi-san turned up the volume as I sat next to him on the couch.

"-and was found again in an alleyway not far from the subway station. There has been little information released to the public, only that of the location and condition of the body." More video of the crime scene was shown, a damp alley sprawling with cops and FBI agents; police sirens lit up the brick walls with their blood-red and icy-blue patrol lights. The newscaster pressed a finger to her earpiece, and her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

"I have just received additional information from my sources, "she spoke, voice a little weary, but mostly disguised by her level of experience, "it has been confirmed that the body is the seventh victim of the so-called Origami Killer, who has wreaked havoc in Japan for the past 2 years."

Usagi-san sighed and rubbed his temples, "seven people. All killed by this ruthless killer."

"I know," I said, "they must be really messed up. It doesn't even make any sense." Usagi-san glanced up at me.

"It's stupid, leaving a piece of origami in the dead body's hand. He might as well wear a sign around his neck that read's 'I'm insane!"' The novelist waved his hands wildly in the air for emphasis, leaning back onto the cushions.

"They told us about this guy a while ago. My homeroom teacher said that he was extremely dangerous, and targeted any types of people - age, gender, and race didn't even matter." I remembered that day in my mind perfectly. Everyone was so scared - it was the third victim, and things were starting to look bleak. All of Japan was sitting on the edge of their seats, looking behind their shoulder every second, suspecting anyone and everyone.

"Listen, Misaki," Usagi-san suddenly got up and kneeled in front of me, clasping my small hands within his big bear paws. "I will never let this freak near you, okay? I would do anything to protect you, I promise."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't try to pull away. "You _promise_, Usagi-san? You don't have to do that, it's not really scaring me..." I trailed off. The thought of dying at the hands of such a monster did freak me out a little, but I wasn't about to admit that to Usagi-san. I lowered my gaze sullenly. I'm guessing he sensed my apprehension, which caused him to grip my hands harder, but nowhere near enough to be painful.

"No, I promise. I'll protect you no matter what."

He smiled at me and pulled me into a tight hug. It sounds mushy, I know, but I felt so safe and loved at that moment; like a butterfly still resting within it's cocoon.

I only hesitated slightly before wrapping my arms around him loosely, enjoying the moment for a few seconds before the smell of something burning hit my nose like a truck.

"Bwaaah! Usagi-san, the pancakes are gonna die!"

I jumped off of the couch as he reluctantly released me and turned off the stove completely. I barely managed to save the pancakes before they turned to a crispy black.

"Yay, they're okay! Time for breakfast Usagi-san!" I called into the living room, feeling a little happier than I had been earlier. There was still a killer on the loose. That was the cold, hard truth. But with Usagi-san, I felt like I could conquer the world. A murderer couldn't catch me with a huge, overprotective bunny by my side.

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><p>The weekend passed way too fast. The rest of Saturday had been uneventful, save for the extreme molestation of yours truly. Other than that, Usagi-san and I stuck to our normal routines; him being nearly assaulted by Aikawa for missing another date, and me being completely assaulted by him.<p>

Everything was fine, near perfection.

I woke up early that Monday, feeling the light rays of the sun caress my face as gently as Usagi-san would when he wasn't trying to take advantage of me. The big bunny himself was peacefully still asleep next to me as I sat up. I snuck out of the covers as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake the sleeping novelist.

Somehow, I managed to slip out of bed softly enough not to wake him. I folded back the covers around him, and placed one of his many Suzuki-sans where I would normally be. He stirred a bit suddenly, mumbling something and peaking open his eyes barely a crack.

"...saki?"

I leaned down to his head, and feeling a bit daring (or perhaps just stupid, not sure which one), ever so slightly kissed his lips. I bent down to whisper in his ear.

"Sweet dreams, Usagi-san."

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><p>Not wanting to further bother Usagi-san, I decided to walk to school, since it was such a nice day out. A few minutes into my short trek, I looked up at the sky and frowned with disappointment.<p>

"Woah, I guess it's not so nice out..." The sky had lost some of it's luster, and was now significantly covered with huge, swollen gray clouds. They looked like they were ready to burst with rainwater, so I sped up my pace to try and avoid the obvious impending storm.

I thought it would be best to get to school fast, seeing as Usagi-san would relentlessly pester me when he picked me up later in the day, _"why didn't you wake me up! You could have gotten a cold!_" Or more likely, _"Misaki, let me help you out of those wet clothes..."_

I shuddered at the thought, and decided to take a shortcut to the university. I curved into a narrow alleyway as I felt small drops start to fall all over my body. It was beginning to get darker, and I was having trouble seeing everything around me in the dim alley.

For some reason, I felt that something in the back of my mind didn't want me to take another step. But against my gut, I continued to walk through the alley, however, I did increase my footsteps.

It suddenly began to pour.

Pulling my hood over my head as I speed-walked, I could soon see the end of the alley. I smiled to myself, even though I knew I was overreacting. As I tried to slow my racing heart, I saw something out of the corner of my eye swiftly move behind me.

My breath hitched in my throat as I complete came to a halt. I wanted to run, but my body was complete frozen. I willed it to move, but I was too scared. I took a deep breath, summoning up the last of my courage from the bottom of my gut, and slowly turned my body around.

Just in time to see a black figure rush up and grab me, pulling me back into the dark alley.

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><p>I was rudely awaken by the sound of rain pattering against the window. Relentlessly.<p>

I pushed myself up with my arms, and looked to my right, expecting to see my Misaki, but coming face to snout with one of the many Suzuki-sans that inhabited the condo. He must not have wanted to wake me up and left early.

I sighed and sat the bear on Misaki's pillow. I knew Aikawa was coming today to go over the manuscript for my next novel, but I felt too lethargic to even get out of bed, let alone finish the manuscript that sat almost done on my computer.

I got up anyway, groaning softly as I pushed back the covers. My bare feet touched the carpet as I buried my toes in the plush material, enjoying the comfortable feeling from the soft fabric. There was a set of clothes hung up near the door, which must have been chosen by Misaki earlier in the morning. I smiled as I put on the outfit. He had picked out one of his favorite ties of mine. He would never admit it, but he had once stuttered out how nicely it matched my eyes.

I chuckled a little and smiled to myself; he hated when I said it, but he really was cute. The way his chocolate brown locks stuck out was adorable, and I swear I could lose myself in his deep emerald pools.

The thought of Misaki reminded me of something. I quickly left our bedroom and looked out of the large living room window. It was pouring buckets, and didn't look like it was about to stop anytime soon. I anxiously wondered if Misaki had made it to school in time, feeling guilty for not driving him in such awful weather. I looked around for my cell phone and quickly found it resting on the coffee table. I decided to text Misaki, just to see if he had made it to school before the rain had started. I pressed the tiny buttons as fast as I could, missing a few in the process, but getting my message across.

_Did u make it 2 school all rite? Call or text. Love, Usagi_

I snapped the phone shut and placed it in my pocket, giving him a few minutes to respond. If he didn't, I would just call him. I would deal with his teacher personally if he got in trouble for texting during class. I knew I could be a bit overprotective, but it was for his own good. He rarely spoke up for himself, and almost never asked me for anything that seemed "troublesome" to him. I loved Misaki with all of my heart, but sometimes wished he would just tell me the things he wanted, or bothered him.

I checked my cell phone again: no new messages. My fingers breezed instinctively across the 2 on the number dial (I would set him as number 1, but that was stuck as voicemail). I could speed dial Misaki, but maybe I could try giving him space for once. I could see him now, _"Usagi-san, I'm fine, you don't need to call me every five minutes, you'll give me in trouble with the teacher!"_

My finger hesitated for a quarter of a second before pressing on the 2 and calling Misaki. I pushed the phone against my ear and waited for him to pick up on the other line.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings.

_"Hey, this is Misaki!_"

"Misaki! Are you-"

_"I'm not here right now, but leave a message and I promise I'll call you back! Usagi-san get off, I'm recording my voicemail! Hey! Baka Usa-"_

The pre-recording came to an abrupt halt, and I sighed dejectedly. I even remembered the day he had recorded that, but I was too eager to tell the difference between his voice from the old recording. A few sharp and urgent knocks woke me from my daze.

"Usami-sensei! I forgot my key, and the publishing company needs the book by tomorrow! Open the door or I'll castrate you in your sleep!"

I blanched, and walked to the door. Opening it slowly, a bright red head pushed its way in as soon as there was enough room.

"Usami-sensei! Did you complete it?"

I looked at my poor, tortured editor. Her eyes were blood-shot, and there were purple bags weighing down her eyelids. "No," she gasped horrifically, "but I know what to write, so don't panic. Anyway, why do you look so tired?"

She pushed in the door the rest of the way and sleepily trudged to the couch. She plopped down with a groan and rested her messy head on her arms. "I was up all night helping out a new author. He just came out of nowhere and everyone fell in love with him!"

I sat down on the sofa opposite her and continued to stall for time, "what's so great about him?"

The redhead sighed and readjusted her position so that her head was now facing me, "he's adorable! He's cute, sweet, smart, generous, and not to mention has a smoking hot body!"

She squealed like a teenage fangirl as I rolled my eyes and smirked, "that _would_ be the first thing you would notice about a man." Suddenly, her eyes became downcast and her face turned quite serious. She looked back at me with a strange look on her face.

"There's another reason why everyone's so interested in him." She paused and sat up completely, placing her hands in her lap and staring at them intently.

"He's trying to get a book published about the Origami Killer," she shook her head as if to clear something terrible from her head, and continued, "he used to be a journalist, but he became a psychological profiler for the FBI a few years ago. He's the youngest member they've ever had, and probably the best."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "I was assigned to help him work out the kinks in the book. He's such a nice guy, but I'm wiped out!"

"What's his name?" I briefly wondered if I knew him; I met a lot of strange people at book signings and parties.

"Ka-something...Kasami? Sorry, I'm not sure. I worked with him all night, but I was so tired I don't even remember him telling me! It was an odd name, that I remember."

Now I was curious. It took me years to get lined up with Marukawa and it had taken this guy a day? He must have something groundbreaking.

"Aikawa," I questioned, "what exactly does the book cover?"

"Well," she sounded a little hesitant, "technically I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but...since it's you, I guess I could make an exception. But you better not tell _anyone_, and finish the damn manuscript or I'll have your head on a freakin' dinner plate!"

For a second, normal, raging Aikawa had emerged. I smiled and nodded.

"Okay," she leaned forward and looked around, as if checking to see if anyone was listening, "he's writing an exact and extremely detailed history and profile of the killer. He thinks that if he gets it published, people will know who to look for and the police will catch him real fast. It's a great idea, when you think about it."

I nodded once again. The guy seemed to be fine. After all, he was part of the FBI. "The faster that monster is off the streets, the better."

Aikawa looked out at the pouring rain, "I agree. But now, we need to focus on the manuscript! So, where is it?"

I grinned, "well, half of it's up _there_," I pointed to the computer upstairs, "and the other half is up _here_," I tapped my head.

She glared at me with a fiery rage burning in her eyes.

"USAMI-SENSEI!"

I chuckled and went upstairs to work on the manuscript. I felt odd though, like I was forgetting something too important to forget, but I was too focused on this new author and the manuscript to even want to remember. The troubling feeling lingered in the back of my mind for the rest of the morning.

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><p><strong>AN: -breathes sigh of relief- Was it awful? D: Or...did you like it? :D This was just a sneak peek, but I'm definitely sticking with this fic for a while. Also, although many of the Junjou characters will be appearing in this fic, the main couples for now are Egoist and Romantica. It's actually very balanced (well, that's the plan XD), so everyone (as well as the Terrorist couple) should get something :) Please review, feedback speeds up the writing process a lot and makes me obnoxiously happy! XD Thank you so much for reading the first chapter, the next one will be out next week :D Or maybe even earlier...;) Oh, and about the title...all will be revealed later :D**

**~Romie**


	2. Sun in Your Eyes

**A/N: So many awesome reviews! :D Thank you guys so much! I love you all! You couldn't even imagine how excited I was when those reviews popped up in my inbox! Just...infinite happiness :) Just a side note, I don't know much about Japan's police system and all, so I'm just going to use normal United States departments (FBI and police). I know it's not accurate, but I write what I know, and it's fanfiction, so it doesn't really matter ;) I know these author's notes are kind of long, but I like to keep you guys updated with each chapter. Sorry for ranting! Enjoy chapter 2 of Pureland!**

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><p>Over the years, I've learned to despise soft rock.<p>

I have a good reason though. As lucky as I am, I live by an unusual and soul-crushing cycle. On the first day of the new week, I get to wake up peacefully; the sun gently warming my eyelids as the birds chirp serenely. I stretch my arms above my head, wincing slightly when my bones crack and settle back down, but enjoy the overall satisfaction. Moments later, frustration sinks in when I realize that the music is too damn _relaxing_, and it takes me an extra half hour to wake up. Then I'm late for work, I'm pissed off, everyone _else _is pissed off, and the rest of the day is crap.

The second morning, I've already reset my alarm to an actual beeping sound, and have mentally prepared myself for the horrid damage that my ears will suffer in the morning. I dread waking up to a decibel-destroying buzz, so I'm usually awake for a few more hours than usual. Then I fall asleep anyway, get pissed off by the incessant beeping that seems to haunt me for the rest of the morning, and the entire day is crap. Again.

On the third day, I realize that if I want to wake up on time, I have to resort to loud, bubbly, over- the-top pop music. The alarm set, sleep mask on, I slowly drift into a relatively peaceful oblivion. Then the shrieking of a male-but-sounds-like-a-female-singer ruptures my eardrums and leaves me in a bad mood. Then, as always, the rest of the day is _crap._

The next morning, I feel like waking up peacefully, to some soft rock or alternative music. Therefore, the cycle repeats every few days, leaving me in a never-ending spiraling vortex of horrible music, irritability, and tardiness.

I pulled myself out of the haze of sleep, cracking open my eyes slowly. Groaning and cursing softly to myself, I took a look at the clock. 7:30 am.

I growled, muttering and shoving my head into the nearest pillow. I was supposed to be at work by now; I had set the clock to go off at 6:45 am. This was really late, even for me. Throwing off the covers and sitting up, I briefly swept my eyes over my small bedroom.

It was a perfect size for me; cozy, but not too small. Large bedrooms were pointless anyway; I was rarely even in mine since work kept me so busy. My curtains were dark, but I had chosen them on purpose. On the rare mornings I had to myself, the thick fabric blocked all light from entering the room, leaving me blissfully unaware of the sun, keeping me locked in an infinite night.

My eyes widened as I realized I was just wasting time staring into space. I hopped off the bed and raced towards the shower, almost wiping out twice on one of the many large book mountains that shared the apartment with me. They were much better then a stupid alarm clock.

Grabbing a couple of towels from the clean laundry basket, I zoomed into the bathroom and slammed the door, growing more irritated by the minute. Hopefully, the hot water would calm me down.

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><p>The damn water didn't do a thing.<p>

Still pissed off at my demon of an alarm clock, I dried my hair with the towel I had picked up earlier. The other was loosely wrapped around my waist, threatening to fall at any moment. I sighed and roughly grabbed the side of the second towel, now holding my head and my waist. I awkwardly headed towards my bedroom, intent on getting to work before 8:00. Of course, it was nearly impossible, but it was worth a shot.

I ravaged my closet and searched for something to wear, tossing aside pajama pants, boxer shorts, and even a few bathing suits. Aside from my books, I wasn't exactly an organized person. I finally found a clean, normal outfit and quickly threw it on. Just a simple one, nothing special: dark grey pants, white shirt, and a tie.

As I was finishing up the knot on the black tie, I heard a soft buzzing noise coming from the kitchen. I pulled the knot tight and adjusted the fabric, half running towards the noise. It was my second, rarely used cell phone, the one reserved for emergencies only.

I didn't even glance at the caller ID. I already had a relatively good idea of who was calling, since only a few select people knew the number. I snapped it open and pressed it against my ear, expecting them to scream at me, but hearing something completely opposite my initial assumption.

"_Kamijou..." _the voice spoke softly, so quietly that I had to turn up the volume to even hear what they were saying.

"Yoh...this number is for emergencies only. What's happened?"

I paused, hearing nothing but silence on the other line, waiting for him to speak again. After what seemed like hours, I heard a sigh on the other end, barely audible through the phone's small speakers.

"_They found another one today. From the Origami Killer." _

I scrunched up my eyebrows and gripped the phone tighter. The man-the _beast _he was referring to was the bane of my existence. I had been hunting him for years, and hadn't come even close to finding him. As of today, ten people had been killed by his hands, and two people involved with the victims were still missing.

We still weren't even sure if it was a _he._

"...then why did you call this number? I have yours reserved on my other phone for this case specifically-"

"_Kamijou."_

I froze. Something in his voice seemed off. He was almost always the one to call me with new information about the killer, and most of the time, he seemed indifferent. However...there was some kind of deep emotion that I just wasn't sensing embedded in his words. I wanted to say something, but I felt like now wasn't the time. I held my breath for a few moments.

"_He got her." _

I didn't even have time to grab my jacket before I raced out of the door.

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><p>The trip to the crime scene was a short, dread-filled one. Although my boss was an obnoxious, clingy bastard, he was still one of the only people I frequently stayed in touch with. He used my apartment to hide away from hissuperiors on his "I'm tired Kamijou, please just let me invade your personal bubble" days, and in return, he helped me finish extra reports and papers that I probably couldn't complete on time.<p>

I knew who "she" was, and even though the two weren't exactly best friends, things were now on a completely different level.

A few years ago, Miyagi had gotten married to a women named Risako Takatsuki. When he first told me, I had never even heard of the girl before, so needless to say, I was shocked. Who would even want to deal with Miyagi every single _day _anyway?

Miyagi gave me daily updates on their lives (much to my utter _happiness_), and from what he's told me over the last few years, their marriage seemed bumpy, filled with Risako's constant bashing of his job, and his accusations of infidelity. It's not like he was wrong, but they were both pushing each other away as time went by. Eventually, Risako filed for divorce.

Miyagi seemed so much _lighter_ after the separation, and over time, he grew back into the pain in the ass that he is today. Lucky me.

I pressed the brake gently with my foot as the car slowly came to a stop. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and turned off the windshield wipers, the window instantly blurred by the rain. I mumbled to myself and cursed for not bringing an appropriate jacket. Groaning at my stupidity, I turned around and searched the backseat for anything to keep me dry. A black zip-up sweater was bunched up in the corner. I grabbed it and pulled on the clothing, pushed open the door anyway, and stepped onto the wet pavement. It was raining cats and dogs by now, and I could already feel the moisture seeping into the fabric as I tugged the hood over my head.

I slammed the door shut as I headed towards the array of patrol cars and bright yellow caution tape. After I had left my apartment, Miyagi had texted me the location of the scene, since randomly driving around the city would have been pointless. Although, something like this was hard to miss, even if you weren't looking for it.

I reached the first barrier of tape and cops quickly, blinking away the water that had started to collect in my eyelashes.

"This is a closed crime scene," one of them said, looking quite cozy in their plush coat, "leave now or we'll have to escort you off of the premises."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Obviously I wasn't just some random tourist hoping to snap a few pictures for the internet. I reached into my pocket and flashed my badge at the two, "I'm not here for autographs, so hurry up and let me through."

The second cop, a burly man in his forties, leaned forward and squinted at the identification. His eyes widened slightly and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "sorry about that. Didn't know you were FBI..."

He gestured towards the tape, "go on ahead, you're clear."

"Thanks," I murmured. The cops running the scene were small-town, probably not used to seeing someone part of an organization like the FBI. Although we had been involved since the beginning, we tried to keep a low profile until recently. With the latest murder, things were now personal.

I grabbed the wet tape in my hand and pushed it up, ducking low to make it to the other side. I released it and started walking towards the alley that was even more secured; cops lined it like ducks at a shooting gallery.

"Agent Hiroki Kamijou?"

I turned around towards an ambulance, almost halfway to the alley now. I tried to find the owner of the voice, but I didn't recognize it. A small crowd of people huddled around the vehicle suddenly parted, letting a man through. He starting walking towards me, a small smirk planted on his face.

I stared at him curiously, "who's asking?"

He stopped when he got closer to me, holding his hands over his head in a weak attempt to protect him from the torrential downpour.

"It's kind of hard to focus with all this rain, come stand under the awning near that building," the man pointed to a small overhang near a shabby looking shop. I nodded, and we both half ran to the small shelter. Once there, he smiled wider, his dark blonde hair clinging to his face. He stretched out his hand for what I assumed was a handshake. I didn't like the looks of him, but I took it anyway, shaking it briefly.

"I'm Lieutenant Tsumori Susumu. I've been investigating the Origami Killer case for quite a while now." I really did _not _like this guy. Whether it was his seedy grin, strange demeanor, or just my gut telling me something, he just wasn't rubbing me the right way.

"I see. And how exactly did you know who I was?" I questioned, folding my arms over my chest, desperate for something warm.

"Your superior told me," he answered, "Senior Agent Miyagi Yoh. He seemed really upset, but he didn't say why. I told him I'd cover the scene until you got here and give you the low down."

I nodded understandably. Miyagi was a tough guy when it all came down to it, but most human beings couldn't deal with the kind of discover he had made early this morning. I had already expected him to be gone by the time that I had made it to the crime scene. Now I was stuck with this guy.

"Anyway, let's go check out the scene, I'll give you all the new details."

I stepped out into the rain again, getting completely soaked in seconds. I frowned and turned towards the lieutenant. Tsumori seemed like an odd guy, but he was part of the police force, and not many shady people were accepted into law enforcement. I picked up my pace and started towards the scene once more. He stuck to my left side, now quiet.

We reached another barrier of caution tape and ducked under it, finally arriving at the entrance to the now bright alley. The walls were lit by large artificial lights brought in by the police force, blue tarps covering the tops of the oversized lamps. Little yellow tags with numbers lined the ground, set there to mark possible evidence. On the far side of the area, a small tent was set up, which presumably, was the location of the victim.

Tsumori turned to me, a look of curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "By the way, is it true?"

I raised an eyebrow, "is what true, Lieutenant?" He nudged my arm with his elbow as I pulled away subtly.

"Don't play dumb, Hiroki, I-"

"Agent Kamijou." I always hated when people tried to call me by my first name. It was way too casual for the field of work that I was involved with. He sighed, too dramatic to be a real reaction.

"Sorry, _Agent Kamijou_," he practically sneered, "anyway, you know what I mean. I heard that people in your rank have some sort of special technology that helps on the field. So whip it out! Is it some kind of robot or something?"

I shook my head and reached into my pockets. Although he was annoying, he was right, a select few agents had recently been given special equipment to aid them on crime scenes as part of an experiment. I was one of the lucky ones; I was practically the first agent to receive the parts.

"Here," I took a pair of black glasses out of my shirt pocket and slipped them onto my eyes. I then pulled a thin glove out of my pocket and slipped it onto my right hand.

"It's called the Added Reality Interface, or ARI. With these," I pointed to the glasses, "I can enhance the environment around me and sense things that wouldn't be seem important or obvious to the naked eye. It can record all the information around me, and I can access it later in virtual files."

I held up my right hand next, partially covered by the glove, "with this, I can physically interact with the environment around me and receive information directly from the FBI. In the tips of the fingers and the palm of the glove, there are small sensors. If I touch a blood sample, for example, the ARI can tell me the name, age, history, and pretty much anything I want to know about the person it belongs to."

Towards the end of my small explanation, Tsumori's eyes had grown wide, like a child who just received a new toy. I knew what the next question would be, and held up a non-gloved finger to stop the impending question.

"No, you cannot play with it. The ARI is not a toy."

He frowned; such a drama queen. His lip quivered and he reached out to touch the glasses, but I backed away from his outstretched hand. "That's amazing. We don't have anything like that around here."

I pushed away his prying fingers and backed even further away, "can we get to the new information, please?"

He sighed, smirking again, and put his hands on his hips, "of course, sorry for prolonging your suffering. I know you're freezing and dying to get out of here. Let's take a look, shall we?"

I nodded, eager to get back home. I clicked a small button on the side of the glasses, and watched the world in front of me convert to a crime investigator's dream. Everything around me was much brighter, even though it was dark outside, due to the massive storm clouds blocking out the sun. Now, I could search for clues that the police may have missed, and record information to help move the case along later.

"Now," Tsumori began, "here's the deal. The body was found this morning, by a couple of little kids playing in the neighborhood. They told their parents there was a weird lady in the alley, and they came over to check it out. Then they called the cops, and tagged it as another Origami Killer murder when they found, well...the origami. That's when your boss came down."

I wasn't completely focused on Tsumori's speech, I could always ask Miyagi about the details later anyway. I was more intent on looking for more evidence. He continued as I faced my hand palm down to the ground, and tapped a sensor on the side of one of the fingers. A large circle of yellow light pushed out from the center of the glove, analyzing everything that seemed significant in the circle's radius. Several little tags popped up, which I would further investigate whenever the lieutenant was done with his little rant.

"...and you know, it's the same as always. Face covered in mud, origami figure in the hand, flower, you know, all the usual signatures. This is where you come in."

I looked up from the ground, busy staring at the tags that had popped up from the ARI. I was dying to check them. "Is that all?"

He frowned slightly, but quickly regained his usual coy smirk, "of course. Feel free to ask any questions if you need anything. And make sure to report your findings back to me."

"What? Why?" It's not like this guy was my boss. I don't think I would ever let myself wind up working for someone like him in the first place.

"There's one thing I forgot to ask you, Agent Kamijou," he chuckled a little, leaning back on his heels, "have you ever worked with a partner before?"

On the outside, I was a stoic wall of pure experience, on the inside however, I gasped like a fish out of water. In my entire career, I had never worked with a partner, not even Miyagi. I just talked with people on the actual crime scene, and used my phone to contact anyone else on the current case. I did not want to imagine working with _this_ guy.

He laughed louder this time, and stifled his giggles with a palm, "oh Agent Kamijou. I can't _wait _until later. Unfortunately, not all the arrangements have been made, so I can't tell you anything else until tomorrow. It was a pleasure meeting you, I'll hope to see you again _very_ soon."

He began walking back towards the ambulance, waving back to me and smiling. I bowed my head as soon as he turned around, and prayed that this was all some sort of sick nightmare. I just wanted to investigate the scene, get home, and solve the case, by _myself_. As I was drowning in my own self pity, I nearly jumped as a hand suddenly touched my shoulder.

As I tried to calm my racing heart, I turned, expecting to see that damn lieutenant again, but instead got a completely different surprise. It was a man, maybe a little younger than me. His bright blue eyes were gleaming, staring right into mine, even they were masked behind the ARI glasses. His ebony hair was a bit shaggy (from what I could see that wasn't under his hood), but seemed to suit him well. But what struck me the most was his height. He was absolutely a giant; he had to be more than six feet tall! He had a soft smile on his face, but looked a little concerned.

He chuckled quietly, "I'm sorry for scaring you," his voice sounded nothing like Tsumori's, it was much softer.

I mentally stuttered, removing my glasses as I tried to find the right words to say. With my still palpitating heart and anxiousness, this guy was pretty much seeing the worst side of me right now.

"Umm...it's fine. It was my fault anyway. Jeez, we're on a crime scene anyway, I can handle myself." I looked back up into his eyes, and he gasped softly. For some godforsaken reason, I blushed. I could feel the intense heat on my cheeks as I stared at the ground.

I could hear him laughing again, and quietly glanced out from my soaked hair. He smiled at me, and I came to the abrupt and obvious conclusion that whoever this guy was, he was the polar opposite of Tsumori.

"I'm sorry about that, it's just..." He leaned down and tilted his head to the side, peeking down at me through my hair, our eyes meeting once again, "you have the most beautiful eyes."

I was sure my face was on fire as I turned away from the man. I covered my face with my hands, wanting to yell at him, but not having the energy; the cold rain had pretty much sapped it all away. I suddenly felt a shiver rip through my body, and crossed my arms to preserve some heat.

I felt a sudden warmth cover my shoulders, and reached around to grip whatever was cocooning me in such blissful warmth. A long, heavy black coat was draped over my shoulders and body. I turned back to the man, now wearing one less layer than he had been a minute ago.

"I saw you from over there," he waved a hand towards the ambulance and cop cars, "and noticed you shivering out in the rain. It's not a very good idea to wear thin layers in this weather, you could get sick."

Of course, on cue, I feebly sneezed.

"...like that."

I sniffled and brushed some of the moisture from my exposed hair. "I appreciate the gesture, but what about you? Something tells me you don't exactly have a fur coat to keep you insulated."

"Oh, don't worry about me," he tugged on his collar for emphasis, "I made sure to wear lots of layers today. Giving up one isn't a big deal at all."

"Oh." I suddenly felt stupid. I had ran out of the house with nothing but a thin shirt on, straight into pouring rain. I was an irrational, nervous moron. This guy was calm, collected, and charming.

"Well...thank you very much. I'll be sure to return it to you before I leave today."

He frowned a little; the expression didn't seem to belong on his face. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at me again, "aren't you leaving _now_? I'm no doctor, but you shouldn't be out in the rain for very long, especially dressed the way you are."

I felt the urge to roll my eyes, melt into a puddle of goo just because of his touching concern, and sigh dramatically all at the same time. I chose to groan a reply instead, "I wish I could, but I can't. I have to take a look at this crime scene first."

"Oh, I understand, my line of work demands me to be available at any time. Whether rain, sleet, or snow. It's kind of a pain sometimes, but you get used to it eventually." He ended with a soft smile.

I felt my lips tug upwards slightly, and found myself smiling back at him, "I know exactly what you mean."

My smile quickly disappeared, morphing back into the usual poker face I kept. I could stay and talk more with my personal hero, but I knew I had to process the scene. I stuck my arms through the sleeves of the coat and melted into the fabric, zipping it all the way up.

"Listen, I have to go now, I'm sorry I can't stay and talk."

The man raised his hands in a defensive gesture, "of course, I expected that. But I myself have nothing to do right now. A few of the cops just stuck me under an awning and pretty much told me to stay there and not move. If you wouldn't mind, I could help you process the scene faster."

"E-er, that's quite all right. You should stay nice and warm over there, I wouldn't want to dump all of my work on you." I already felt like an imposition, why add salt to the wound?

"I insist," he smiled at me. He seemed to do that a lot. It was gentle, and reassuring.

"In fact, let's not waste any time," he took a step closer, even though we were already quite close, "you're an FBI agent, right?"

"Y-yeah," not only was he friendly, apparently he was clairvoyant too, "how did you know?"

"I saw you using the ARI," he pointed to the glove, still keeping at least one of my hands dry, "my boss offered me a pair, but I like relying on the good old fashioned five senses. I don't mean any offense, of course."

I was about to ask him what his line of work even was, but he grabbed me gently by the wrist before I had a chance to say anything, and pointed to the left side of the small alley.

"You take this side, and I'll take the opposite. I'll meet you near the tent when you're done, how does that sound?"

I was baffled. Why was he doing all of this? I was just a random stranger anyway, I didn't even know this guy. I had literally known him for less than ten minutes. All I could manage was a soft, "s-sure. Thank you."

"No problem, see you in a bit." He walked away to the other side, departing with a small wave in my direction. I limply waved back, still bewildered at this guy's behavior. There couldn't be someone _actually _this kind, could there?

I sighed, pulling the ARI glasses out of my pocket and sliding them in front of my eyes. Finally, I could get started. The system sprung to life as I pushed the power button, again lighting up the environment around me. I pulled up the tags that the ARI had found earlier. There were eight of them, and three were on my new friend's side. I walked about a foot before coming to the first one, a small foot print. I touched it with my glove, information immediately springing up before my eyes.

"ARI, comment: footprint is irrelevant. Belongs to one of the police men working the scene. Disregard." I held down the speaker button on the glasses, taking note of my findings.

The tag disappeared, and the record was pushed away into my files. This was expected, since the police had practically stampeded onto the scene. Most of the footprints and hair samples they had found would probably turn out to be useless.

I moved on to the second one, and the third, quickly discovering that they too were prints and samples belonging to police. This was ridiculous, I couldn't find clues in a scene this contaminated. I strolled over to the third, hoping that it would be something relevant to the case.

It was a trail, and following it with my eyes, I discovered that it ended in the small white tent at the end of the alley. Even without the ARI, I knew that the killer had dragged the victim through the mud, forming the ominous tracks. I touched a portion of the track that had a shoe print near it, and almost cheered when it was determined to be unrelated to the police. Unfortunately, it was only a partial print, so the ARI couldn't determine the brand or size. However, there was some kind of small sample stuck in one of the treads, which the system quickly analyzed.

"ARI, comment: Traces of pollen found in a partial shoe print. The print was found near the trail created by dragging the victim on the ground to a designated dump site. According to the analysis, the pollen seems to belong to an orchid." The ARI had highlighted a thin, glowing trail of pollen which led from the location of the body, to a random spot in the middle of the alley. Earlier, it probably would have led somewhere, but the heavy rain was decreasing the concentration of pollen in the air by the minute.

I filed away the pollen in the "clues" folder, hoping that it could help me narrow down a few things later. Finally, I was getting somewhere, even though it was just a flower. I moved on to the final clue, a small blood sample. I quickly scanned it with the system, but again, it turned out to be irrelevant. It was just blood from a small animal, nothing of importance.

Finished analyzing the clues, I looked over to the tent, where my tall friend was waiting for me, his arms folded across his chest. He looked out of place amongst all the uniform blues and caution tape, like a tall sunflower flower in a field of weeds. He seemed like too much of a kind person to be involved with such a dreadful line of work. At least, I assumed, since I still didn't know specifically what his job was.

Eager to leave and talk to the man again, I removed my glasses and half ran to the tent, where he greeted me with a warm smile. "Did you happen to find anything useful?"

I frowned, "not really. Most of it was irrelevant to the investigation. There were prints from police all over the place. The scene itself is pretty much compromised."

"Oh," I suddenly remembered the pollen I had found, "I did find a small sample of pollen and a partial foot print. There's a trail of the stuff in the air that leads to the tent."

A small look of misery crossed over his features briefly, but he abruptly covered it up with an indifferent mask. He looked back at me, his blue eyes lacking a certain glint that I had seen earlier, "I'm sorry. My superior always tells me not to show any emotion during these types of investigations, but..."

He looked back towards the tent, flinching away and clenching his eyes shut when someone swiftly threw open the flap, revealing the body for a brief moment.

"It still upsets me to know that someone is hurting and killing these innocent people, leaving them alone, out in the rain, for someone else to find. It's really sick, and sad."

I knew exactly how he felt. When I had first become involved with the FBI, I was still wet behind the ears. Shortly after I had received my badge, I had been sent on my first field mission. I almost lost it when I saw the body. It was a little kid, their body mangled and bloody, left in a dumpster to rot. I felt sick for days, and had nightmares for weeks. Over time, I starting to become desensitized, learning, and gaining more and more experience with each case. I still cringed when I saw a body, even though it had been a couple of years since my first case.

Miyagi told me that you always get that feeling, no matter how long you've been an agent.

A soft voice brought me of my daze, "...anyway, is there anything else you need to look at before you leave?" The man was now looking right at me, seeming a little less downcast then he had been before. Even if his smile was fake, I wanted to believe that it was real.

"I'm afraid there's one more thing that I need to look at, I own at least that much to my boss."

The man nodded, he knew that I still needed to investigate the actual body, no matter how much either of us didn't want to. He looked confused for a second, and curiously stared at me, "what do you mean by that?"

It would reach the press eventually, and the man seemed trustworthy, so I made the spilt second decision to answer him. "The woman that was killed was my superior's ex-wife."

He gasped softly, reaching out a hand to cover my shoulder. It practically swallowed it up, his hands were as big as he was tall. "I'm so sorry. Did you know her?"

I could feel the heat radiating from his hand to my body. Enjoying it for the time being, I replied back, "not really. I just met her once, at their wedding. But that was almost four years ago. They divorced only a few months after they got together, but still...when someone you knew that closely dies, it's hits you hard."

He nodded sympathetically, "I'll leave you to it, then. I'm sorry I can't come with you."

I hesitated for a second, but placed my bare hand gently over his, the one still resting on my shoulder. I blushed slightly, but gazed downwards so he wouldn't notice.

"It's all right. I understand. I just need a minute," I slid my hand off of his, and he removed his from my shoulder. I frowned as the cold instantly dispersed over the area. I gave him one last parting glance as I slid into the tent and retrieved my glasses. As soon as I put them on, tags immediately popped up.

I took a look at the actual body before I started analyzing the tags. I could barely recognize her from nearly four years ago, but I defiantly knew it was Risako Takatsuki. Her dark brown hair was fanned out around her, messy, and tangled. Her face, like the other victims, was covered in dirt and mud. Her skin was whiter than bone, and her blue lips stood out on her covered face. Her clothes were torn and drenched, but there was no blood. A few small black and blue bruises covered her arms. What disturbed me the most was that this women had been alive and breathing mere hours before.

I turned my attention to the ARI, which had highlighted three important findings. The first was a flower, pink and white in color. I had a good idea what kind it was, but analyzed it anyway. I gently held a fragile petal between two of my fingers, the sensors instantly recording data and fetching new information.

"ARI, comment: a small flower was placed on the victim's chest. It's been identified as an orchid, also known as the flower of innocence. Same as the other victims."

I pushed the file into a folder and moved on to the second clue, which was the main signature of the killer. It was the object that the media fed on, and how the murderer got his title in the first place. In the victim's hand, a small, slightly damp origami figure was clenched between her stiff fingers. I carefully snuck a gloved finger through and touched the figure gently.

"ARI, comment: The origami figure is a small butterfly, just like the ones found at the other crime scenes. The paper is the same type and color as the others." This was the strangest aspect of the murders. No one knew what the exact significance of the origami was, or it's purpose. No prints had ever been found on any of the figures.

I groaned, and knelt down next to what was once Risako Takatsuki. Now it was just an empty shell left behind. My knees ached from staying in the same position, as I began to inspect the last tag. I grasped one of her wrists between my hands, and brought it closer to my face. All of her nails were broken and bloody.

I grimaced and took a sample with the ARI, most of it was hers, but a very small speck belonged to someone else.

"ARI, comment: A small sample of blood was found beneath the woman's fingernails. The sample is too small to run any complete tests on, but it has been identified as type A blood, and the victim's is type B. There is a strong possibility that it could belong to the Origami Killer."

I slowly replaced her hand, resting it across her stomach. I turned off the ARI, slipping the glasses into my pocket and removing the glove. I took one last cursory glance at the women, and slipped out of the tent.

* * *

><p>I was assaulted by rain when I emerged from the small shelter, but I ignored it. I could leave now, go home, and curl up on the couch with a nice book. I knew there was one final thing I had to do first, and I scanned the surrounding area for what I was looking for. I finally found the man from earlier, talking with a few police officers at the end of the alley. I made my way over to them, and he turned as soon as I was within reasonable reach.<p>

"Just a moment," he said to the officers, who looked crabby, and ready to leave, "please."

They reluctantly nodded, grumbling amongst themselves as the giant closed most of the distance between us by walking up to me.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you came out, they called me over here to discuss something."

I chuckled softly, and he look surprised, "you're sorry? If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I've already stolen your coat and used you as free labor."

He laughed along with me, contradicting the somber atmosphere around us for a few blissful moments. It quickly ended though, when he sadly smiled at me, "how...how was she?"

My smile instantly died along with my laughter, and my face sunk, "same as the others. Except, there was one difference."

He patiently looked back at me, waiting for an answer, "what is it?" "She had bruises," I rubbed up and down my arms to show him, "only a few, but still. The others didn't have a scratch on them."

"Huh. That is odd. Did you notice anything else out of place?"

"Actually...yes. Her fingernails..." It took me a minute, but I connected the puzzle pieces, and I suddenly knew the difference between Risako and the others, "they were all broken."

"I think you have an explanation, don't you?" I looked up at him. I think he knew the answer as well, but wanted me to say it. Our eyes met again.

"Yeah...she fought back."

We were both quiet for a while, and just stared at each other, the reality of the situation sinking in. I really hated some aspects of my job. I'm pretty sure he was thinking the same thing. Finally, he spoke, breaking the immeasurable silence that hung between us. His voice was very soft, but a bit more lively.

"Those officers that I was talking with, they asked me to go with them to the police station. I'm not really in a position to refuse, so...I'm afraid I have to leave you now."

He stuck out his hand, and I took it gently. Of course, his huge paw swallowed mine up, enveloping my chilled fingers in a warm blanket. He smiled at me, not letting go of my hand. A sudden, gruff voice pierced our small bubble, and I could feel the rain seeping through to my core once again.

"Hey, you! Let's get going, the chief is gonna have my ass if we're not at the station soon!"

Two of the three cops from earlier were already piled into a police car, while the last one was calling over to the man beside me. He grimaced, and released my hand.

"I'm sorry. I'll probably be there for a while if you-"

"Hey," this guy was starting to piss me off, "let's go _now!"_

The large cop began to walk towards us, his anger and tension visible in his strides. Before he left, I just had to know this guy's name, at least. He spoke first before I had a chance to say anything, "by the way, we never exchanged names. I guess we were both too engaged to even think of it."

The cop suddenly appeared behind the man and roughly grabbed his arm, causing my hand to briefly twitch over my holster. He quickly pulled him towards the car, giving me only a second to respond.

"My name's Hiro-"

Before I even had a chance to finish shouting out my own name, he was shoved into the backseat, and the car drove away, leaving me standing alone in the cold rain. I was pissed at how unkindly the cop how treated such a gentle man, but was too focused on missing my companion. I was beyond disappointed that I still didn't know a damn thing about him. I could only hope that he heard me, and that we would run into each other sometime in the future. He _did _say that our jobs were similar, so it wasn't that big of a stretch.

As I turned and began walking back to my car, I snuggled into the warmth around me. I gasped, realizing that I still had a connection to the mystery man. I smiled, and tugged his coat tighter around my body.

* * *

><p>I leaned back into the seat of the car, upset, since I wasn't even able to tell my new friend my own name. The cop in the back seat was staring at me from the corner of his eye, although he didn't see me looking right back at him through the rear view mirror.<p>

I folded my arms across my body, hoping that I would see the man again soon. A strange feeling in my gut said that I would, and I clung to the hope that emanated from my core. I was elated though, that I had caught his name. I closed my eyes, and focused on any future happiness that I could think of, far away from the horrid case that was the Origami Killer murders. I whispered softly to myself, the cops too busy rambling amongst themselves to even give me a second glance.

"I'll see you again soon, Hiro-san."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ahaha, see what I did there? My god, this was way longer then I thought it would be, oops! More for you guys, haha. If you still have any questions at all (about the ARI or anything), don't hesitant to ask. And if Hiroki seems a little OOC, you have to remember that I did that purposely. He never met Akihiko, and doesn't have any of that bottled up angst. He's still Hiroki, just a little different :) And for future reference (I know I keep saying this)…please kind in mind that this is NOT a Romantica fic, it's everyone. For the entire fic, just to get everyone on the same page, I will be switching between the three couples (only a little Terrorist, sorry!). At first, I did think Romantica would be the main couple, but...not so much anymore. Thank you for reading, please review and keep an eye out for the next chapter of Pureland!**

**~Romie**


	3. You Don't See Me

**A/N: No excuses guys, this should've been published a long time ago. I just got a bit (okay, A LOT) overwhelmed with real life duties. Sorry for the delay, and thank you so much for the amazing reviews so far! And yet again, I knew zilch about the police system and whatnot. Another quick side note: I changed the main character listing to Hiroki and Nowaki. Egoist fans, rejoice! But it's still Romantica too, of course. Now, enjoy chapter 3 of Pureland!**

* * *

><p>Something was off. I could feel it.<p>

Everything had seemed all right that day. I was back on schedule (or at least, my schedule), Aikawa was getting her manuscript (whether she liked it or not), and Misaki was safe at university.

But still, a small part of me was anxiously crouched in the back of my mind, mulling over some piece of information that just didn't fit. I glanced over at Aikawa, wishing that she would magically fly away and leave me to confront the strange feeling of dread that was coiled around my stomach like a steel garden hose.

I knew she was close to finishing her editing; I had completed the next installment in my series earlier that day, after she had arrived. It had only taken several hours of bantering, editing, revising, and screeching (courtesy of the demon editor herself). I had quickly printed off the thick packet, and the she-devil practically ripped it out of my hands, salivating, more than eager to read the final draft. I didn't think it was anywhere near a masterpiece, but the publishers just wanted something to shelve; I could plagiarize a whole Tolkien novel and they probably wouldn't even notice. That's what Aikawa was for, anyway. She pushed and pulled me harder than a rope in a tug of war match during due dates, and filtered out all of the crap that somehow made it onto the pages during a sleepless, caffeine-filled night.

Aikawa had been reading through the draft for a while now, and I was getting antsy just sitting around doing nothing. I clasped my hands together and gently stretched them, the bones' muffled cracking resonating through my arms. I stood up from the couch, arching my stiff body and reached for my laptop. I turned towards my editor, her face buried within the snow white pages.

"Are you almost done with that?" I questioned, it was getting late; I had to pick up Misaki from the university soon.

I placed the laptop on the kitchen counter and returned to the couch where Aikawa was seated. I tried making eye contact, maybe the "Usagi-san-glare" would get rid of her. However, her hair covered her face, blocking her features from my already limited view. I leaned over her shoulder, looking at the page she was on.

It was blank.

"U-Usami-sensei," she whispered, her voice heavy and watery, "I don't understand...you..."

I smirked and lightly took the manuscript from her shaking fingers. Her hands fell limply to her lap and she looked up at me me with the eyes of a child who had just lost their favorite toy.

"Usami-sensei, if this really is the last book in your series...how could you end it like this?"

"Hmm," I grunted lightly, I should have known she would react like this.

The normally hyper editor sighed and wiped a sleeve over her eyes, "Usami-sensei, is there something going on between you and Misaki?"

By now, she cleared her eyes of all tears and was staring at me with a new "concerned and worried" mask. She had replaced the manuscript with her purse, and was roughly clutching the open flaps together with a grip that could rival my own.

"Of course not," I replied, "in fact, it's just the opposite. I've ended the series like this so that there will never be any speculation about a sequel."

"Bwaaah! But sensei! Sometimes it's healthy to let people wonder! Don't you think it's a bit...oh I don't know, drastic?"

I swooped back over her and took the open bag from her hands. I gently slipped the thick pile of papers into the open pocket, zipping it up once again and placing it back onto her lap.

"If doing this gives me more free time to spend with Misaki, then so be it."

She stood up so quickly the front of her knees hit the coffee table, nearly sending a few teacups crashing to the floor. She looked furious, the usual comedic element vanished from her face.

"Usami-sensei! I will not let you do this! This will ruin your career! Your fans will be heart broken, and not to mention the publishers!" She had her hands balled into tight fists, her arms rigid and parallel to her body.

"And what about Misaki? Sure, he doesn't like your books, but even he wouldn't approve of this! Please Sensei, I'm begging you to change your decision."

She had calmed down a bit, and was now standing right in front of me, the height difference apparent, as she had to tilt her head quite a bit to look directly into my eyes. I felt a bit remorseful. After all, I had been writing the Junai Romantica series for a few years now. But I knew I was making the right decision. If I wanted to avoid any major conflicts in my relationship with Misaki in the future, then ending the series was a definite requirement.

"Sorry," I put my hands on her shoulders and steered her to the door, grabbing her purse and coat on the way out, "but this is my choice. I love Misaki more than writing, and certainly more than making money that I don't even need. Surely, as a romantic, you can understand that, Aikawa."

As she passed through the doorway and into the hall, I released her shoulders and handed her the coat and bag. She looked up at me with sad eyes, quietly slipping her jacket over her shoulders.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Sensei," she sighed.

"I do," I smirked, "don't worry about it. If the publishers give you any crap, tell them to take it up with me. Remind them of the award winning Moon In the Box series, which is still ongoing."

She managed to flash a weak smile, "all right. But don't give up on that one, okay? You may be rich, but you still need some kind of an income."

"I know. Good luck Aikawa. Sorry for springing this on you."

"Hmm," she slung her bag around her arm and turned to leave, "just don't do it again. Goodbye Usami-sensei."

I waved in her direction, softly swinging the door closed as she walked down the hallway. But right before the door completely sealed me off from the outside world, I caught a glimpse of Aikawa looking over her shoulder, mouthing something to me.

Before I could even comprehend what she was saying, the door shut, leaving me slightly confused, curious as to what she had mouthed. I brushed it off, knowing her, she was probably cussing me out under her breath.

I let out a breezy chuckle, rolling my eyes at the classic Aikawa move. Her expression didn't match the words I thought she was saying, but I chose to ignore it. The devastated, despondent look that had crossed her face was probably just a fabrication of my own imagination anyway.

I didn't have time to worry about that anyway, I needed to figure out the dreadful feeling that was looming over me like an eternal storm cloud. I looked away from the door, and grabbed my phone, keys, and coat, hoping that Misaki's cheerful demeanor would snap me out of it.

I left the apartment and locked the door behind me, briefly wondering if Aikawa was still lingering around. A quick sweep of the hall confirmed that she was long gone. It wasn't that big of a deal, I would just call her later to check in.

I began my trek to the elevator, the loud pattering of rain echoing in my ears as wave after wave relentlessly beat against the thin windows of the building. Logically, I knew they would hold, but I couldn't help wonder what would happen if the rain was suddenly too much, and they all burst into thousands of shards of glass.

* * *

><p>"I know. Good luck Aikawa. Sorry for springing this on you."<p>

"Hmm," I slung my heavy bag across my shoulder, the burden of the manuscript weighing me down like an anchor, "just don't do it again. Goodbye Usami-sensei."

He waved at me softly as I walked towards the stairs. I couldn't take the elevator now, no matter how heavy my bag was. I needed to blow off some steam.

Of course I was devastated. For Usami-sensei to end his most beloved series so abruptly...it was a sin. Normally, I would never let him do something like this. I would chew him out more than a dog does a bone. But he seemed so final. He was as stubborn as a mule, anyway.

Sensei said he wanted to end it because of Misaki. I knew I could understand that. He was right, underneath all the rage, I was just a big romantic.

I sighed, maybe this was a good decision. Usami and Misaki's relationship had some twists and turns, maybe taking out a big conflicting factor was a benefit. Still, I couldn't help but feel the ending to the Junai series was way too abrupt.

I stopped in my tracks, hearing the door swing gently into place. I turned to look at Usami, all of the evening's emotions subconsciously painted on my face. I didn't know if he could hear me, but I spoke anyway.

"I would have understood if you wanted to end the series, but you didn't have to_ kill_ him."

* * *

><p>On days like these, I was glad I could keep my car in a parking garage. It was still pouring, even after hours of nonstop rain. I suddenly remembered that one of the things I was trying to recall earlier was hoping Misaki had made it to school before the rain had started.<p>

I smiled at the thought of a soaking Misaki sliding his way onto the passenger seat.

"_U-Usagi-san, sorry for getting your car wet, it's raining pretty hard out there."_

Then, like always, I would smile devilishly at him.

_"Oh Misaki,_" I would whisper, _"don't worry about it. I'm sure you can make up for it later."_

_"B-baka Usagi...you're nothing but a big perv. Just drive."_

I would chuckle and say, _"all right, but when we get home, I'm helping you out of those wet clothes."_

Then his face would turn that gorgeous rosy color, and he would look down at the floor mumbling.

_"Stupid pervert, always looking for new situations to take advantage of me..."_

And even though he thinks I won't see it, he'll smile down at the sopping ground and look back at me through his dripping hair. Such little tokens of affection, and he doesn't even know that I notice them.

I slipped into the passenger seat, quickly shoving the keys in the ignition and instantly turning up the heat. That way, the car would be nice and toasty by the time I got to Misaki. I pressed my foot against the gas peddle and drove out of the exit, cursing when the rain instantly obscured my view. I snapped on the windshield wipers, but even then the window was still muddled by the cascade of water.

I started towards Misaki's university, driving through thick puddles and miniature rivers that were forming on the roads. After a few minutes, I was forced to stop at a red light, and I gently eased the car to a halt. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the cars on the other roads to pass. I casually stole a glance at the dash top clock. It was getting a bit close to the school's final bell.

I impatiently gripped the wheel and tapped my foot against the floor, staring at the harsh red light. After what seemed like ages, it finally turned a bright green and my lane was allowed to pass. I sped up a little, but Misaki's berating voice echoed in my head.

_"Usagi-san! You idiot. Don't speed up like that, especially when it's raining like this..."_

That had been last month, when the rain was just as bad as it was today. At first, I didn't listen. Looking back, I'm glad I did, since I learned a valuable piece of information about Misaki that day.

* * *

><p><em>I smirk and continue to drive at the speed I'm at. Granted, it's only 10 miles over the limit. But when I look over to Misaki, he's gripping the leather lining of the door so hard that his fingertips are turning dark red.<em>

_Startled, I instantly slow down._

_"Misaki," I whisper, "what's wrong?"_

_His fingers are still stiffly gripping the car lining, not easing up in the slightest._

_Instinctively, I reach over to his clenched hands and cover them with my own, carefully trying not to hurt him as I pry his fingers from the material._

_His hands remain compacted as tight fists, stuck between my two larger ones. I gently try to massage them open, but he is resilient, and just closes them harder._

_"Misaki," I half shout, worried for his own safety, "you're going to hurt yourself. Just tell me what's wrong."_

_At this, his hands loosen just enough for me to wiggle my own between them and lace our fingers together, hopefully to prevent him from doing any more damage. The little red crescent marks on his palms don't escape my eyes as I squeeze his hands firmly._

_"Tell me, I can't fix it if you keep quiet, Misaki."_

_He finally looks up at me with round, watery eyes. The painfully obvious fake smile on his lips is so out of place, only making my heart ache._

_"Don't even try to pretend there's nothing wrong." Usually, he gets out of situations like this with a grin and a frenzied excuse. Not this time._

_He drops the smile, slowly, his mouth forming a downcast frown instead. He dips his head back down, but I catch a glimpse of the tears falling from his eyes just in time. His soft sniffles are the only sound in the car, other than the racing thumps of my heart._

_"It...it's just...my parents."_

_Oh. The internal me smacks myself in the face repeatedly, astounded by the amount of insensitivity I had displayed. I know about Misaki's parents. His older brother had told me a long time ago about their deaths._

_"They were in a car crash." It flies out of my mouth before I can stop it. I nearly clamp my hand over my lips, but Misaki stops me with an eerily gentle chuckle._

_"So you do pay attention when I tell you things. I guess that's good."_

_He seems to have stopped crying, but a few stray tears remain on his cheeks. I unwind one of my hands from the tangle of our fingers and gently brush away the small rivulets with the pad of my thumb._

_"I'm sorry," I murmur, "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."_

_"No, it's alright, you didn't know..."_

_Puzzled, I loosen my grip on his hands just a little, "No, I do, both you and Takahiro have mentioned it before."_

_"No, not about the crash," he looks to his right, out towards the storm that was dissipating, albeit slowly, "the rain."_

_I have so many questions, but he speaks again before I can get a word in, keeping his eyes trained on the small water droplets on the windows. They remind me too much of his tears._

_"When my parents passed away, it was late at night, and the roads were clear. Everyone else was safe at home, hiding from the rain."_

_I stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt._

_"It was raining so hard...and the tires had such little traction..." he pauses and clenches my hand tighter. He hasn't released it once since I first grabbed his._

_Clearing his throat, he continues, "we slid right off the road, and flipped over so many times...I can still remember it so vividly. Everything is so clear, it's like it's still happening right now, Usagi-san-"_

_"Misaki, hey, it's okay. That's enough," I keep my voice firm, but gentle._

_He grimaces, stroking one of my fingers before separating his hands from me completely._

_"I guess what I'm trying to tell you is...I really don't like the rain. it reminds me so much of that night. My stomach lurches and my head starts hurting, but it get's so much worse when I'm in a car. I guess I...really don't want something to happen to anyone."_

_A blush finds it's way onto his face, bringing a bit of the usual Misaki back into the light. The red chases away the sickly pale that definitely does not belong on his cheeks._

_"Especially...especially you, Usagi-san."_

After that, I always made sure to drive carefully, especially when it was raining.

* * *

><p>The rain had only seemed to worsen by the time I finally made it to Misaki's university.<p>

I parked near the curb outside the main entrance, as close to the main doors as possible, since I had forgotten an umbrella and would be relying only on my thin jacket to keep me dry. Misaki would surely yell at me later for risking a cold.

Removing the keys from the ignition and pocketing them, I pushed open the door and jumped out, closing it as fast as I could. I practically jogged to the main entrance, realizing halfway there that by some unfortunate circumstance, my jacket did not have a hood. Damn.

The courtyard was empty as I ran through it, most of the students probably waiting inside for a ride. I reached the doors and yanked them open, the metal nearly slipping from my wet hands. I stepped inside the building, immediately assaulted by a blast of warm air. Grateful for the comforting respite, I removed my soaked jacket and draped it over my arm, dripping water over my pants and shoes. It didn't matter, my whole wardrobe was waterlogged anyway.

I was in the lobby, where, true to my prediction, most of the students were huddled together in small groups. Or "posses," as Misaki had once informed me. I searched the divided crowd for my smaller counterpart, looking for the telltale sign of his messy, chocolate brown hair. I spotted a few brunettes, but they were most definitely not Misaki, as two of them were extremely tall, and the other was female.

A few more minutes of fruitless searching had me exasperated. Where the hell _was_ he? I decided to check one of his teacher's rooms. According to his schedule, the class he had last period was fortunately, not very far from the lobby.

I started towards the room, but was almost immediately stopped by a terribly familiar student, about my height. His hair was an odd shade, almost silver in color, but sort of appearing light brown. He was taller than Misaki, and possessed a bit more bulk than his narrow frame. I growled, and narrowed my eyes at the mahogany orbs of Sumi Keiichi.

"Usami-san," he said, "what a pleasure seeing you here." I had only met the kid a few times, but I already despised him. He was a bad influence on Misaki, constantly enticing him with offers to attend drinking parties and group dates. Not to mention, he always seemed to have his grubby hands on him when I wasn't around.

Naturally, Misaki only saw the good in others, and snapped at me whenever I said anything bad about the upperclassman. I tried my best to remain neutral most of the time, but Misaki wasn't here right now. I didn't have to hide my opinions.

"I don't have time to deal with your tricks right now, Sumi. I suggest you back away before I get really mad."

He shot me a look that could only be described as smug. His smirk was easily taunting, but his eyes held an expression I couldn't identify.

"I see, when your boy toy isn't around, the tiger shows his true stripes. Very sneaky. Speaking of our resident clueless brunette, where was he today? Locked in the tower by the angry dragon?"

I lost my scowl, but only for a split second. I put my poker face back on and stayed as calm as possible. He had information about Misaki. He was hiding something, and I needed to figure it out.

"What are you talking about? He went to school today. He wasn't home all day."

This genuinely seemed to surprise Keiichi, and he looked as shocked as his lack of emotions could muster, "really? I assumed he got sick or something. He definitely was not here at all today."

I could feel my blood boiling. Either this kid was lying right to my face, or he was telling the truth. I was too worked up to tell, so I just continued the impromptu interrogation.

"Are you absolutely _sure_ he wasn't here today?"

He shook his head, bangs falling into his face, "positive. He missed both of the classes we had together, and lunch. I didn't see him in the halls either. And we usually pass each other at least twice on a normal day."

I tried to hate him, but something in my gut was telling me he was not lying. Still, I felt like he was hiding something.

"Are you lying?"

"No. Not during a time like this."

I furrowed my eyes, and grumbled, "a time like _what,_ exactly?"

He almost looked frightened, and lowered his voice to a dangerous level, "I think you know what I'm talking about, Usami-san. It is no longer safe to joke about disappearances in Japan."

My eyes widened, and I shoved past him, intent on getting to Misaki's class. I did not trust Sumi Keiichi in the slightest. Despite what my gut was trying to tell me.

"Usami-san, wait-"

I could care less what he wanted to say anymore. His smug smirk wormed it's way into my brain and stayed there, daring me to turn around and pound him into the nearest wall. I had to remain calm, for Misaki's sake.

It took all the willpower I had, but at last, I reached the final class Misaki would have had. I burst through the door, not caring if there was an after school class or meeting, I needed answers. _Now._

Fortunately, the class was empty, save for a lone student and the presumed teacher. The student's eyes were wide at the sudden entrance, and she scurried to grab her books and thank the teacher. As the blonde brushed past me, uttering a quick "sorry," I walked to the desk. The professor was middle aged, with graying black hair and a kind smile. But kindness was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

"I can't say I approve of your entrance, but you look like you're in a hurry. How can I help you?"

He clasped his hands together, leaning forward and waiting for an answer. I hastily obliged.

"Do you have Misaki Takahashi in your final class for the day?"

I expected him to look for a class attendance sheet, but he just smiled and nodded, "why, yes, I do. He's quite a bright student, but he needs to learn to apply himself more. I do believe he has quite a bit of potential."

Against my current feelings, I let out a soft smirk. That's Misaki, alright. I cleared my throat and refocused, "was he in class today?"

His smile dropped a little, but the professor kept his friendly aura, "as a matter of fact, he was not. I thought it had something to do with the rain. A lot of students keep getting colds from this awful weather."

So Keiichi wasn't lying. That came as a big shock, although it did convince me to start paying more attention to my gut.

The epiphany had me reeling. If Misaki was not in school, for the entire day, than where was he? Had he run off, or gone to his brother's house? There were only a few definite places where I knew Misaki felt comfortable in. He didn't have a car, so he either took the train or walked. Probably the train, since it had been raining nearly all day. Misaki wasn't stupid, he knew what bad weather could do to a person's health.

I was anxious, but I didn't let it show. I simply thanked the professor and turned to leave. His worried voice stopped me.

"Please, tell Misaki to be careful. He could very well catch his death in this weather."

I ran a little faster as the professor's words tumbled over and over in my mind.

* * *

><p>Luckily, I didn't see Keiichi again as I sped through the lobby, which was now nearly desolate. Most of the students had gone home for the day, sitting happily in the heated cars of their friends or parents.<p>

Right now, I had more important things to do than sit and wait in a heated car.

I raced through the downpour once more as I headed towards my car. Drenched yet again, I slid into the seat, the water following me and seeping into the driver's seat and floor. Whatever, it didn't matter. I pulled my cellphone from my pocket, praying that it still worked. The screen was a little damp, but I quickly wiped it off. I dialed the first person that Misaki would probably go to that wasn't me.

Takahiro.

I waited a few rings. The voice mail eventually picked up, after about a minute of listening. I was disappointed, but knew I had to subtly find out if Takahiro knew anything about his brother. I didn't want him to worry over what could turn out to be nothing, especially since he already had his job, a wife, and a kid to worry about.

"Hey, Takahiro, it's Akihiko. I was just wondering if Misaki called you yet. He seemed very excited to tell you something this morning. Call me as soon as you can."

There was a sense of urgency in my voice in the last part of the message, but Takahiro wouldn't pick up on it. He was a sweet and generous man, but oftentimes, he was a bit clueless.

_One down._

On a hunch, and slightly out of desperation, I called both my father and my brother, receiving identical answers from the two. They had not heard of or seen Misaki all day.

_Three down._

I left a message on Aikawa's call, which was a bit dumb, considering she had been with me all day, But still, it was just in case.

_Four down._

I talked to the head of Marukawa Publishing, and even the department manager of the section Misaki usually visited, but still, nothing. I had already checked the school, and the apartment.

There was no one left.

I felt a bit queasy, and something felt hard and obstructive in the back of my throat. Misaki was a smart boy, right? He would never get into a completely terrible situation.

I tried to force the memory of him getting into my brother's car so easily out of my mind.

There was one place left to call, but there would be no going back after I made that decision. If I contacted them, the situation would feel too real, and I wasn't ready to admit that something had happened to Misaki. _My_ Misaki.

I felt sick, but started the car anyway, my hand trembling as I worked the key into the ignition. At that moment, I made a decision. For Misaki's benefit, I had to take the jump. I knew it in my gut. And that was something I needed to start listening to. Making a phone call would seem too rushed, too unimportant for them to even consider a real plea. I needed to go right to the source.

I pushed my foot against the gas pedal, and sped off to the police headquarters.

* * *

><p>With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I pulled in front of the local police station.<p>

The building was small, but the intimidation was enough to drop me to my knees. I had never felt so nervous in my entire life. I knew that walking through those doors was the beginning of the end. Enlisting the help of the police was admitting that something had happened to Misaki, that I couldn't help him myself.

I sucked in a huge breath, feeling the shuddering of my lungs, and released it. It didn't help at all, but I knew what had to be done. I opened the door and once again was pelted by the rain, but felt nothing. It was like a field of anxiety kept the water at bay. I felt so numb, as I walked to the entrance. Courtesy once again thrown to the wind, I threw open the doors.

The floor was set up like a business operation, with cubicle like dividers separating at least a dozen desks. Officers maned computers at each and every single station. They were so involved, that even my unceremonious entrance had not fazed them. A sole officer noticed me, and looked up from the stack of papers strewn across his desk. His computer was turned off, instead, folders and various files covered his workspace.

He stood, somehow ending up in front of me. I was too distracted to notice how he had managed to travel so fast, but I appreciated that at least one person was willing to listen to me.

"Hello," he stated, his voice deep, "are you all right? You look flustered."

"I can only imagine what I look like right now, but that's not the point," I subconsciously crossed my arms over my chest, "I need to speak to the head of this department."

He sighed, looking more tired as the seconds ticked by. He ran a hand threw short, black hair and rubbed a hand over his eye.

"Listen, I'm a senior officer, I'm as good as it gets right now. Any problems you have, can be taken up with me."

I took in the overall appearance of the man. He didn't have officer garb, but instead a matching black pants and jacket, over a wrinkled white dress shirt. He still looked a lot more dignified than the usual police officers that rescued cats from trees or helped old ladies stand up after a fall.

He had worn, steel blue eyes that were nearly gray. He looked older than me, but only by a few years. Obviously, he had been in law enforcement for a long time.

"Well?"

For once, I was speechless. I had no idea where to start. The officer seemed to drop a little of his cold demeanor, and led me over to his desk, instructing me to sit in a chair across from him.

"Before you start, let me at least tell you who you're talking to. I am Senior Agent Miyagi Yoh, from the Japanese branch of the Federal Bureau of Investigation stationed in this country. Let me tell you beforehand, if what you need to tell me is unimportant, please leave now."

I could almost feel a bit of anger rising, but kept it under lock and key. This man was part of the FBI, not the police. They only worked on extremely important cases. The fact that he was talking to me only encouraged me want to gain his assistance.

"Yes, it's quite important. Someone I know-" I grimaced, and clenched my hands into fists against my drenching pants, "someone I care _deeply_ about, is missing."

This seemed to get his attention, "missing? Are you sure they just didn't go somewhere without telling-"

"I'm positive. Misaki would never do that to me. Or his family."

He didn't seem angry that I cut him off, only more intrigued. He was about to ask something, but his gaze was directed to a door opening several feet away. A tall man stepped out of the room, wearing the same black pants as the agent, but sporting a dark navy hoodie instead of a jacket. He was giant, but surprisingly not as cold as the man questioning me.

Agent Yoh called over to him and motioned for him to join us when their eyes met. The man looked behind him, perhaps not expecting to be called, but made his way to us despite his confusion.

"Did you need something, Sir?"

Agent Yoh groaned, "for the hundredth time kid, don't call me Sir."

The tall man sheepishly grinned and apologized, "sorry Si-, oh, I mean Agent Yoh."

He sat in the chair closer to the older man, across from me as well. He had kinder, younger eyes that shone with a brilliant blue. He lacked the wise air that encompassed the other agent, but a strange intelligence was nestled deep in his gaze. Looking at the two, it seemed as though I was seeing the past and present, right next to each other.

"This man is missing someone. He's convinced it's a priority case. I want you to pay attention, and take a few notes. You don't need to say anything, got it?"

He was speaking to the unnamed tall man, who just smiled and took a small notebook and pen from the bag slung across his shoulder. I hadn't even noticed it earlier, I was so distracted by his height.

"Pay attention. If you suspect anything odd, let me know so I don't end up wasting everyone's time, understand?"

Again, the man nodded. I didn't really care or understand what he had meant. I was just a civilian, as far as they knew. There was no reason to suspect me for anything.

"So," the agent started, "start with your name, then describe the missing person, and your relationship."

Taking a deep breath, I began, "my name is Akihiko Usami. Yes, before you ask, the novelist. But please, I would like this to remain professional."

Neither said a word. At least they were dedicated to their work.

"His name is Misaki Takahashi. He's been living with me for about a year, ever since his older brother had to move to keep up with his job. He's nineteen years old, and a sophomore at Mitsuhashi University. He has-"

"Wait," the agent stopped me, "so you're not related?"

"No," I sighed impatiently, these details were pointless, "I went to high school with his brother, that's how we met. But that's not important."

Agent Yoh chuckled darkly, "everything is important. Trust me."

I went on, explaining Misaki's physical appearance, personality, and overall life. It felt weird, like I was writing his biography. I ended up spilling the most minute details, like his favorite color, or preferred season. Eventually, we landed on the subject of that morning.

"What happened before he left for school?" Agent Yoh questioned, eyes curious and sharp.

"Nothing. I slept in, like usual. And he left before I woke up. By the time I was awake, he was long gone."

"So you don't actually know if he got to the school?" The younger man interjected, earning a small look from the older agent.

I mentally paused. "Actually...no, I guess I never found out. I texted him, but my editor kept me busy for most of the morning and afternoon."

The piercing blue eyes were focused so intently on me, sweeping across my face in an almost intrusive manner. I felt strangely exposed under this man's gaze. He looked to Agent Yoh and nodded, a tiny smile on his face. I guess I did something right, since he then asked me to explain the rest of the day.

I went through my whole routine that had occurred earlier: driving to Misaki's school, talking to Keiichi, his teacher, and calling just about every connection I had to try and locate him. By the end of my explanation, they seemed convinced. This was a real case.

"Usami-san," the younger man said, standing and coming to rest in front of me, "we promise to do our best to find Misaki."

I almost smiled in pure, desperate relief. They believed me. A small part of me was worried that they would just blow me off. Good thing I was dead wrong.

Agent Yoh also stood, prompting me to rise as well. He walked to the two of us and clamped a hand on my shoulder.

"We cannot assume the worse. But based on your description and timeframe, we believe that this case needs to be prioritized. If we work diligently, we may be able to locate Misaki faster. The first two days are the best for finding missing individuals. It's a good thing you didn't wait to report it."

The younger man smiled, "you made the right decision, Usami-san."

Agent Yoh went back to his desk and shuffled some papers together, shoving them into the top drawer of his desk.

"I suggest you go home and get some rest," he rose a hand as if to stop me, "and before you protest, please keep in mind that we need you alert and aware if you're going to assist us in the investigation. We'll contact you if we find anything."

I wanted to argue against it, but I knew he was right. I couldn't help Misaki if I was a sleep deprived, muttering mess. I nodded sullenly, and buttoned my coat.

"Thank you. For everything, I trust that you know what you're doing."

"Don't worry," the blue eyed man said, "we'll find him."

I wanted to return his almost undetectable smile, but found my lips were frozen shut. I bowed my head slightly instead. I turned away from the two, already hearing their quick movements to probably sort new files and papers.

As I went to push open the door, it slammed open, nearly clocking me in the jaw. A disheveled, brown haired man staggered through, his forearm partially covering his eyes. He groaned, hitting me hard in the shoulder with his own as he blindly stomped past me.

He cursed, and mumbled an apology that was barely audible.

I wanted to pursue him, but I was too exhausted and not even close to angry. I was just drained. Instead, I watched as he made his way towards the back of the room, to what I assumed was the restrooms.

Only mildly confused, I shrugged it off and continued towards my car, trudging through the rain with a newfound sense of dread sitting in my stomach like a boulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that's chapter 3! Much longer than I anticipated -hand cramp- I know things are going slow right now, but fear not! I promise that things will pick up soon! Next chapter is more Hiroki, and more relationship development with two certain characters -wink wink- Thank you for sticking with this story! The next chapter should be up mid-April, or maybe even sooner!**

**~Romie**


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